


Aegis

by sporktato



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Batboys, Batfamily, Big Brother Dick Grayson, Big Brother Jason Todd, Canon-Typical Violence, Damian has one (1) positive emotion and it's reserved for Dick, Dick Grayson is Not Adopted, Family Bonding, Fluff, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, idiots to lovers, references to past prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-08 07:38:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21472411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporktato/pseuds/sporktato
Summary: Jason shimmies the window open and forces his way through the opening. Tim and Damian have less trouble slipping in after him as Jason crosses the room to find the lightswitch. After smacking the wall a handful of times he finds his target and the room illuminates, causing all three brothers to squint and take in the room. It’d been longer than it should be since Jason was here last but little had changed in the office of the club Jason - as Red Hood - owned. The sturdy desk and chairs were still central, though covered with more knick knacks than he preferred; the shelves were messier, the carpet cleaner, and white christmas lights strung around the tv. Jason let himself breathe, they were as safe as they were going to be at the moment.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd
Comments: 39
Kudos: 444





	1. If they stand beside you

Jason shimmies the window open and forces his way through the opening. Tim and Damian have less trouble slipping in after him as Jason crosses the room to find the lightswitch. After smacking the wall a handful of times he finds his target and the room illuminates, causing all three brothers to squint and take in the room. It’d been longer than it should be since Jason was here last but little had changed in the office of the club Jason - as Red Hood - owned. The sturdy desk and chairs were still central, though covered with more knick knacks than he preferred; the shelves were messier, the carpet cleaner, and white christmas lights strung around the tv. Jason let himself breathe, they were as safe as they were going to be at the moment. “Sit.” He nodded towards the visitor chairs, which Tim gladly collapsed into.  
“Remind me again why we helped you with that?” Jason ignored him to swat Damian’s hand away from a book balanced precariously on the corner of the desk.  
“Don’t touch shit, Brat. Sit.” Damian made a vulgar gesture and didn’t follow instruction but Jason really couldn’t care. He headed towards the door, assuming it’d be easy to grab a girl from the hall. Tim made an aborted noise as he stuck his head out the door, and sure enough there was a dark girl with highlighter yellow hair and a matching bra walking by. She startled at seeing him but didn’t yell or throw a punch so Jason took his chances. It was his club after all. “Hey miss, don’t suppose Gray is here?” Jason wished he knew her name, but his red helmet was enough of an introduction.  
After a hesitant moment, she nodded. “He’s downstairs, Mr. Hood. I can get him for ya?” A typical street accent. Jason wondered how long she’d been here. He gave her a nod, adding in a ‘please’ quickly, and shut the door in her face. He turns back to his brothers, both giving him a mild Bat-glare.  
“What infernal place is this, Todd?” Damian had been hesitant about following him here, and about helping him with the mission.  
“My club. Mask doesn’t know it’s mine, and I got someone here that should be able to give us a hand with our situation.” Jason pulled his hood off, thunking it down on the desk as he circled back around it to relock the window.  
“Tt. The situation you got us into, you mean. Of course you own a strip club, pathetic.” If Jason hadn’t already sunk into his chair he would’ve cuffed the kid.  
“It keeps them off the streets.” He grit out, turning his attention to the sticker covered computer sitting on the desk. “Not that you’d know about being on the streets.” Jason starts the computer up as the door opens and quickly closes. He looks over the top of the screen.  
Dick Grayson is glaring at him in all of his 5’5” glory, arms crossed over the illegally tight red long sleeve, hip cocked in equally tight leather pants. “Months. And the first place you come back to is this damn club.” Jason doesn’t squirm, though he wants to. Somehow Dick’s eyes can always see right through him.  
“Technically the first place I went to was the warehouse district. Which is why I need your help.” Dick raised a single eyebrow and made his way to the desk, moving more gracefully than Jason remembered.  
“Sorry, who are you?” Tim inquired as Dick placed himself beside Jason.  
“Dick. Or Gray. And apparently Jay’s Plan B. What’d you manage to do in the short time you’ve been back that requires my help Little Wing?” Dick’s black nails danced across the keyboard as he unlocked it for Jason, pushing into his personal space with ease.  
“Mask’s gun cache in the Warehouse District. We destroyed it.” Dick pulled back, giving Jason a sharp look as he recrossed his arms.  
“The cache I told you months ago not to touch if you wanted to keep the underworld running smooth?”  
Jason was standing before he made the decision to. He was aware he fucked up, but without that cache... and with Damian’s biting comments and Gotham already crawling under his skin- “What the fuck do you know about what I’m trying to do anyways? If it weren’t for me-!” Dick, nearly a foot shorter than him, laid his hand on Jason’s chest; not pushing him away or defending himself, but it stopped Jason in his tracks anyways.  
“Do not get mad at me, Jason.” Dick stared up at him, waiting to see what Jason (the Pit) would do. If Jason was less focused, he would see the impressed looks on both of his brothers’ faces, looking at Dick in a kind of awe. Jason deflated, sinking back into his chair to now look up at Dick. He sighs, tugging on his white hair.  
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Tim’s strangled noise of disbelief went unnoticed. Dick smiled lightly, pulling himself up onto the desk, knocking the heels of his combat boots off the drawers.  
“I’m assuming Tim and Damian need to be got out of the situation as well?” Jason hummed as he hacked into the city cameras to start deleting the video evidence of the three of them at the warehouse, not that Sionis wasn’t already aware. “Well good news, you two will be easy enough to get out of this, bad news is Jay is always a more complicated issue.” His tone is joking, but Jason still feels bad about the whole situation.  
“You can actually make Black Mask forget about this?” Tim asked, disbelieving. Sionis had never been too great at letting things rest - as all Gothamites aren’t.  
“Mmhmm.” Dick tips back on the desk to grab a sucker out of the mug Jason hadn’t seen and pop it in his mouth - dark blue. “Maroni owes me a favour or two, you’ll both be in the clear by daybreak.” Tim and Damian both give Jason a look behind Dick’s back, asking the same question Jason doesn’t really have an answer to.  
“And Todd?” Damian demands. Jason knew he cared. Dick pulls the sucker out of his mouth with a noise that goes right to Jason’s groin.  
“Best plan of action, based off of those tapes, I meet with Sionis soon as possible and don’t leave until Jay isn’t being actively headhunted.”  
“Absolutely not.” How dare Dick think Jason would agree to that. “This is still my fucking city, and you’re going nowhere near Sionis.” Dick’s face pinched up, sucker forgotten in his hand.  
“You don’t own me, Jason.”  
“No I didn’t-”  
“And,” Dick continued over Jason. “You can’t expect me to not do anything about this, that’s why you came here, isn’t it?” The office was silent as Jason and Dick glared at each other, Tim and Damian watching them in fascination. Jason channeled every bit of Bruce he had.  
“You will not go near Sionis.”  
“Oh fuck you, Jason!” Dick jumps off desk, pointing an accusing sucker at Jason’s face. “You disappear for months without letting me know you’re even alive, so I have to take over all of your shit - which you know I don’t want - and now you expect to be able to just slide back to the top of Gotham and pick up everything you dropped on me while I’ve already reworked the entire damn underworld to keep it running without you? So yes, Jason, I’m meeting with Sionis - because I can - and getting your mistake dealt with.” Dick pins him with a look, daring Jason to challenge his decision. If Jason broke eye contact he would’ve seen both of his brothers’ jaws on the floor; no one talked back to Jason, what the Red Hood wanted he got, except with this man they’ve never met before. Jason did look away first, only for a second before remeeting his eyes.  
“I don’t like it.” Dick’s eyes softened after a moment.  
“I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to trust me, and my power.” Dick smiled tiredly at Jason. Jason clenched his jaw and nodded. He - admittedly - was unclear on Gotham’s underground situation. Power can shift and alliances made and destroyed in days, let alone months. Deep down, Jason was aware that’s why he came to Dick, but still, having him meet with the very person they’re trying to avoid… It didn’t sit well with him. (He couldn’t lose Dick.) Dick pulled Jason into a hug, made awkward by the fact Jason was still sitting, and moved back around the desk towards the door, ruffling Damian’s hair on the way by, both startling and agitating him. “Let me make a few calls before any of you leave my club.” He procured a phone out of seemingly nowhere - the pants didn’t leave anything to the imagination - as he reached for the handle.  
“This is my club, I own it.” Jason called after him just to be a bother. Dick spun around, smirking wide, as he pulled the door open.  
“I run it.” He slid out of the office, closing it quietly behind him, leaving Jason with his brothers. He pretended they didn’t exist for a second as he shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.  
“Though I never thought I’d say this, Todd,” Damian breaks the silence. “I, surprisingly, favour your romantic partner.” Tim nods in agreement and Jason feels heat climbing up his face as he splutters, sitting upright and shifting his gaze wildly between the two.  
“I’m not- I mean we’re not- it’s not-!” Tim bites his lip to stop smiling as the red on Jason’s face increases. “Dick’s a friend! Nothing more!” Tim nods halfheartedly and Damian scoffs. Jason throws himself out of his chair - Dick’s now technically he guesses - and stalks around the room, ignoring his brothers as his face cools.  
There’s a lot more books in Russian, French, Italian, any language other than English, than there used to be. Dick never quite got the hang of reading English, not like Jason, who grew up with an equal amount of Spanish and English. The christmas lights are childish, as are the photos of Dick with girls from the club, Dick with Jason, Dick with people Jason didn’t recognize, but they bring a smile to Jason’s face all the same.  
A few minutes go by in relative silence. Tim practically melts into the chair he’d taken over and Jason thinks he may have actually fallen asleep. Jason flicks through a worn copy of L’Amant as Damian goes through his belt idly; all of them waiting for anything.  
Eventually Dick slips back into the room. Tim’s eyes flutter open. “Well?” Damian asks, with a birdarang in his hand.  
“Well, you and Tim should be able to head home with no trouble, as promised. I’d say stay wary for the night, but by patrol tomorrow it’ll be like you two weren’t ever there.” Damian gave a curt nod and stood, re-pocketing the birdarang. Tim, with effort, started detaching himself from the chair.  
“Thank you, Gray.” Damian was never one to forget his manners. “You were not obligated to - assist us.” Tim murmured an agreement, already heading for the window.  
“Aw no worries Dami. Though I don’t think Jay’s my favourite Robin anymore.” Dick ruffled Damian’s hair again: the brat growled at Dick and swatted at his hand but Dick danced out of arm’s reach.  
Jason muttered, “I’m a damn delight.” Dick sent him a wink as he escorted Jason’s brothers to the window.  
“Get home safe you two. And get some sleep, you both need it.” Dick fussed over Jason’s brothers as they clambered out onto the fire escape. “It looks like it’s gonna rain.” Dick tilts his head out the window, eyes on the dark clouds blocking out the moon. “Don’t get caught in it.” Tim shot a look at Jason through the glass, eyebrow cocked. Jason pointedly ignored it, loudly turning the page of L’Amour. Dick closed the window with some difficulty - Jason may have been a little more forceful entering than he meant to be. Jason waited an appropriate length before peering up from the French text. Dick was leaning against the windowsill, giving Jason a weak glare. Jason raised an eyebrow, refusing to breach the subject first. Dick blew out a huff of air, causing his bangs to stir up.  
“I have work to do. You’re staying here tonight. Read, sleep, maybe actually get to know the people you’re paying, I don’t care, just don’t leave.” Dick pushed himself off the sill, grabbing his laptop and striding to the side door that went to a spare bedroom Jason had kept for himself, though he supposed Dick probably used it now. The door slammed behind Dick.  
Jason closed the book audibly. Dick was right to be pissed at him, but the cold shoulder still stung. Jason had promised once he’d become Hood and they’d been re-acquainted with each other that he’d let Dick know when he was leaving Gotham. It had slipped his mind this time, probably because he hadn’t left of his own accord, but was basically kidnapped by Roy and Kori. He wondered what had happened while he was gone, how much power Dick had, how fragile that standing was. His internal clock told him it was nearly 2 a.m., most patrons would be on their way out. Jason refitted his helmet and explored his own club until he deemed Dick wouldn’t be as mad. The girls were tough and the guys were falsely soft and the booze was good by Gotham’s standard and Jason was reminded why he decided to open a club in the first place.  
He knocked on the bedroom door, pushing it open without waiting for an answer. Dick was hunched over the small desk in the corner, with a laptop and - were those textbooks? Jason slid up behind Dick, who tipped his head back to give Jason a light smile, more relaxed and like himself than earlier. Jason found both of his hands on Dick’s shoulders. “The hell is all this?” They were definitely textbooks. A powerpoint was open on the laptop, something talking about neurons and repolarization and sodium.  
“I may have used some of your money to get myself into uni. It’s just online, I don’t have time for classes.” Dick looked embarrassed. “I thought you were dead.” He mumbled. Jason hummed, absentmindedly rubbing circles with his thumbs on Dick’s shoulders.  
“What’re you gonna do with a degree?” Dick started saving and shutting down different tabs.  
“Child therapist. You’re supposed to get a PhD., but I can probably work something out to avoid that. Be the person we both needed when we were younger.” The screen goes black and Dick shuts it with a snap; Jason still sees the worn look in the reflection in the half second. Dick spins around with a smile, stretching like a cat as he stands and yawns. “Meeting with Sionis at 6. Gonna take a nap before then if you wanna join. You Robins all look like you’d benefit from a week of sleep.” Dick pulls his shirt over his head without warning, moving around the room shirtless to grab a shirt Jason had left and throw it on. Jason doesn’t stare at Dick’s body or the scars, he’d seen it all multiple times before. The boots are pulled off and the leather pants follow with a minor struggle Jason scoffs at.  
“I don’t understand how you can wear clothes like that. Think I’d scream.” Jason does find something else to focus on as Dick’s incredibly revealing underwear drops as well, being replaced with boxers. Dick huffs, flopping onto the bed to stare up at Jason.  
“You know my body used to be all I had to get my way. Habit, I guess. Also the Grayson uniforms probably gave me a predisposition for liking tight clothes.” He makes a show of climbing under the duvet, holding up the one side. “Joining? If not wake me up at 5.” Jason wants to argue just for the sake of doing so, but he really doesn’t have anything to say. He rolls his eyes, pulling his phone out to set an alarm before going through the process of removing weapons, jacket, armour, and finally boots and pants. He finds a pair of plaid pajama pants he left and doesn’t give Dick the satisfaction of knowing how much Jason needed rest, though by the look in Dick’s eyes, he already knows.  
In the morning, Jason wakes to find the bed empty. His phone reads nearly 9 a.m. He curses, tripping out of the duvet and falling into the office. Dick stops mid-conversation with an attractive guy Jason doesn’t know to stare at him. To the guy’s credit, he doesn’t seem all that bothered about a half naked guy falling out of Dick’s room. He awkwardly dismisses himself and Jason’s left staring at Dick.  
“Morning.” Dick offers with a smile. “You didn’t even flinch at your alarm, so I let you sleep.” Dick sips the coffee Jason hadn’t noticed in his hand.  
“Mask?” Jason asks. His hands are still clenched around the doorframe. He should’ve been awake, Dick shouldn’t have left without telling him. What if something had happened, if Dick had to resort to his old way of making deals-  
“You’re fine. He wasn’t happy, but with a little persuasion-”  
“What kind?” The doorframe creaked under the stress.  
“Pardon?” Dick looks up from the papers on his desk, probably from the himbo.  
“What kind of persuasion?” Jason ground out. If Sionis had touched Dick in any way Jason would beat the man’s face in with his own stupid mask. Understanding flitted across Dick’s face, closely followed by anger and then practiced nothingness.  
“We made a deal regarding the shipment of guns coming in I’m taking from Penguin.” Jason wanted to consider that a better alternative, but…  
“I blew up his guns, and you fix it, by giving him guns.”  
“If you’d left it alone I wouldn’t have had to do anything.” Jason bites his tongue and spins back into the bedroom. At least Sionis wasn’t after his head. At least Dick didn’t have to use his body to get his way. At least Tim and Damian were out of it. As he throws his clothes from last night back on he tells himself the little things are more important. Dick seems surprised when he emerges from the bedroom again.  
“Leaving so soon?” There’s something in his voice Jason can’t place.  
“I’m staying in Gotham for a while. But you look like you’ve got shit to do, and I’ve got some stuff to check on.” Jason contemplates whether the window or the door will look less weird.  
Dick hums. “Check on your brothers?” Really, Jason needed to get his bearings on the underworld, but Dick won’t like the implications that Jason’s gathering information on him.  
“Yeah. God knows the Demon Brat tattled to B. Also gotta double check a few safehouses. But I’ll see you soon.” Jason taps Dick’s arm lightly.  
“Promise?” Dick looks up at him. He’s worried Jason will disappear again, which is fair.  
“Promise, Birdy. ‘Sides, you’re my favourite part about Gotham.” Dick rolls his eyes, easy confidence in his eyes again. He swats at Jason’s shoulder.  
“Get outta here, Little Wing.” Jason smiles at him, a genuine one. He wasn’t lying. With a small backwards glance at Dick, Jason exits through the window into the daylight.


	2. If they stand in front of you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall better believe this was my favourite chapter to write

Dick sees Jason again in passing a few times, but the next proper meeting doesn’t happen until Jason climbs through his window again. Though this time it’s in Dick’s actual apartment, not the club. It’s also late, and Dick’s woken by shuffling and low voices. He grabs the knife off his nightstand and slinks to the door, easing it open agonizingly slow. Avoiding the creaky floorboard in the middle of the hallway, Dick peeks around the corner into the kitchen/living room/front entrance of the small apartment. There’s three figures silhouetted by the streetlight, one Dick was acutely familiar with, and two he had forced himself to know. Dick smiles to himself, watches Tim run into his coffee table and Jason shush him sharply. Dick smacks the lightswitch beside him, hoping to spook at least one of them. Sure enough, all three whip around, squinting in the sudden fluorescence, and suddenly Dick isn’t laughing because the light reveals too much red, even for boys going by Red Hood and Red Robin. Dick thinks he swears. Tim offers a weak smile, like he’s telling Dick it’s okay, even though Dick can see blood actively running down his chest. Dick’s chest constricts and suddenly his own mild beating from the other night seems like a papercut. The knife is placed on the coffee table and Dick is pushing Tim and Jason onto his couch and Damian into the chair before he realizes he’s moved.

“What happened?” It’s all he can manage without letting the absolute dread spill into his words. “Don’t move.” He rushes back to his bathroom to grab the definitely unqualified first aid kit he keeps without waiting for an answer. He takes a half second in the dark bathroom to breathe. He’d had to patch Jason up more times than he can count, and he’d like to consider himself pretty decent at it, but now? Tim’s, what, 17? Damian even younger. All three of them will need him to look them over, who does he take care of first? He could leave scars on Damian’s young skin. Dick bites the scab on his lip hard enough for it to start bleeding again to ground himself. He can do this, just a patch up. He’s certainly taken care of Jason and himself in worse situations (read: on the streets, barely teens). 

Dick returns in a rush, clutching the plastic container harder than necessary. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” Jason woozily tries to reassure him. The deep cut on his thigh currently staining Dick’s couch disagrees. Damian looks the least hurt, which is either a good sign or a bad one, and Dick wants to deal with the dull look in his now unmasked eyes first.  
“Damian.” Dick drops the plastic case on the coffee table and flips the lid open. “Where are you hurt? And don’t even think about lying to me right now I will start crying.” Damian’s head snaps towards him at the mention of tears, progress at least.

“I’m- My wrist has a minor sprain, and I suspect a concussion. I have dealt with worse.” There’s small cuts littering his chin and his pants have a splattering of small rips, but Dick lets it be; probably shrapnel. The kid sniffs, eyes drifting to Tim. Dick wants to tell him they’ve all dealt with worse, but that doesn’t make the current situation good. He saves his breath, turning to the two on the couch. He wants to ask who is worse off, but that seems morbid. He hesitates. The cut on Jason’s thigh definitely missed the artery, which is a miracle looking at how wide it actually is. Jason’s holding his shoulder the same way he always does when it’s dislocated, but his armour looks like it took the worst of the damage. 

Tim, however. Tim was trying to hide the cut on his chest to little success. All three of them were so out of it, either they were all drugged (unlikely) or all had concussions (more likely) and Dick felt bad about needing the lights on. There was also a clean cut across Tim’s cheekbone that will probably need stitches as well. Tim first, Dick decides. Sorry, Jason’s godly thigh. “Can you get the top of your suit off, Timmy?” Tim’s eyebrows scrunch up but he nods, and with Jason’s one armed help the suit peels off painfully as Dick grabs a washcloth and a bowl of lukewarm water. He slots himself in between Tim and Jason, cringing as his bottoms immediately start soaking up blood. “You owe me a new couch, Jason.” Dick tries to joke as he starts cleaning off Tim’s chest, doing his best to ignore the kid’s attempts at hiding his pain. “So what happened?” He needs them all to stay focused, cause this close to Tim it’s clear it’s a triple whammy of concussions. Jason and Damian take turns telling him as Dick slides a needle in and out of Tim, the story coming to a close at a faulty fuse for one of the bombs Tim was defusing. Dick sends a thanks to the Mother for watching out for these Robins, because by all means Tim at the very least should definitely be dead. Tim visibly relaxes as Dick finishes the two different rows of stitches with Steri-Strips. Dick wants to apologize for the cut on his cheek even though Dick had nothing to do with it.

“Damian, can you get water bottles out of the fridge for you all?” Having his attention divided three ways is tiring, but as long as Damian isn’t too out of it by the concussion yet he can deal with it. The kid quietly and stiffly slides out of the chair and Dick watches his balance. He seems okay enough and Dick let himself turn his attention to Jason. Jason, whose head is leaning against the back of the couch and whose hands around his thigh have red caked onto them. Dick slides off the couch, landing on his knees and trying not to wince as he’s reminded of the bruises all over his own body.

“What happened to you, Gray?” Damian’s voice is soft as he passes a water bottle to Tim. Jason’s eyes crack open, exhausted worry immediately clouding his features as he finally took in Dick’s busted lip, purple jaw, scabbed over knuckles, and his imagination probably filling the rest in. Dick pries Jason’s hands off his thigh before answering, half his mind thinking about how to get Jason out of his pants. Okay not like that.

“A small kerfuffle, Dami. Caught me off guard. You should see the other guy though.” Dick forces a playful smile as he spares a second to glance up at Damian. The kid frowns, looks him over with a mostly sharp eye. “Do you think you could grab some clothes out of my room and get Tim into the shower?” Tim makes an effort to protest and Damian seems bothered but something in Dick’s face must show just how freaked the fuck out he is with the current predicament because he grumbles without the heat Jason says he carries and helps Tim up and down the hall. Dick decides to feed Tim more, kid looked like a toothpick.

Dick refocuses on Jason. The cut had mostly stopped bleeding, which was good, but Jason’s pants were clearly part of the blood clot, which was not as good. Dick huffs; Jason’s only semi-conscious. He manages to unbuckle Jason’s belt with little issue and works the button and fly with efficiency. The things he does for Jason, really, he deserves a damn medal. Dick starts the long process of tugging Jason’s pants down. He gets further than he expected before Jason seems to realize he’s being prodded and pulled at. Green eyes fly open, locking on Dick and his (bloody) hands wrap around Dick’s wrists painfully. There’s a question on Jason’s lips, but can’t seem to get the words out. “You’re okay Jason, I need your pants off to do what I need to.” The grip on his wrists tighten and pull Dick’s arms away from Jason’s bloody pants and there’s .. fear, in Jason’s suddenly aware eyes. Dick, belatedly, realizes how this looks. Here Dick is, with his known history of pleasing men, on his knees in between Jason’s legs in the dead of the night, pulling Jason’s pants down. Damn concussions. 

“Hey, Jason, no. I promise I’m not doing anything. You got injured, and came to my apartment with your brothers. You’ve got a gash on your thigh I need to clean up if you don’t wanna bleed out.” Dick holds Jason’s gaze, watching as comprehension slowly bleeds into his expression. The pain on his wrists lessens. 

“You’re hurt.” Dick mentally pencils in a freak out session into the next day or so, he feels he earned it after tonight.

“You’re worse off, Little Wing. Let me patch you up, that’s all.” If Jason didn’t definitely have a concussion, Dick would be offended he thought Dick would both take advantage of him, and would so easily fall into bed with Jason. Like, Dick would definitely say yes if Jason offered, but not before dinner or something damn.

“Sorry.” Jason finally gets out. Dick gently pulls his hands free from Jason’s loosening grasp and gets back to the task on hand, thankful his dark skin hides the blush on his cheeks now that he’s aware of where exactly he is. With minor help from Jay, Dick gets the damn problematic pants off and can finally start cleaning the cut. It’s a clean cut at least, no jagged hunks of skin for him to jigsaw back together, and he works single-mindedly, the rhythmic in and out of the thread calming him down in a sick way. Dick’s finishing wrapping the waterproof bandages around Jason’s (giant) thigh when Tim and Damian slip back into the living room. Tim looks ten times better, and more alert. He scrunches his nose at the red stain he left of Dick’s couch and sits on the armrest of Damian’s chair instead. Dick stands with a cut off groan, moving to finally reset Jason’s shoulder. The thunk is loud in the quiet apartment, as is Jason’s controlled release of the air in his lungs.

“Up.” Dick states. He’s exhausted, the adrenaline is wearing off and he can’t even laugh at Jason in his boxers and under shirt even if wants to. Jason raises a lazy eyebrow. “Your turn to shower, and I need to wrap Dami’s wrist.” Dick grabs Jason’s uninjured arm and yanks his near dead weight up, feeling his bruises on his side pull. Dick pulls Jason’s face in between his hands, staring him in the eye, trying to assess his concussion. The momentum seemed to kick some part of Jason’s brain into drive and he stares back startled but alert enough. Dick nods to himself. “Think you have clothes here that I borrowed. Go shower.” Jason rolled his eyes and muttered something about Dick being a thief so Dick didn’t feel as bad about sending him limping down the hallway.

Finally, he turns to Damian, only to be pleasantly surprised to find Tim already midway through wrapping Damian’s right wrist. “Least I could do for breaking and entering and bleeding on your couch.” He offers sheepishly at Dick’s questioning noise. Dick smiles and goes to run his hand through Tim’s still wet hair. He freezes, seeing the blood coating his hands. He bites his tongue. Somehow, other people’s blood always freaked him out way worse than his own. Other people he cared for, and is responsible for, and couldn’t lose.

“Gray.” Damian’s voice cuts through his worrying thoughts. Dick blinks and drops his hands at his sides dumbly. Tim fastens the end of the bandage and both of them turn their attention to Dick. He has to focus.

“Thank you.” Tim says quietly. 

Dick swallows. “What’re friends for right?” He gives an attempt at a smile before starting to pack the first aid kit back up. His couch is a goner. Shame, he liked it. “Shower when Jay’s out, Dami.” Dick retreats the handful of feet to the kitchen sink, dumping the bloody bowl of water and tossing the washcloth, Jay’s pants, and packaging for the bandages into the garbage. He can feel two sets of eyes on him as he tries not to desperately scrub at the blood under his nails, doing it slowly and methodically and controlled - not at all like how he feels. “C’mon you two.” Dick cocks his head down the hall as he dries his hands off. There’s a moment of silence and Dick doesn’t turn around to watch the silent conversation happening even though he wants to. 

Eventually, the chair creaks the way it always does when someone gets off it and he listens as two sets of feet come padding up behind him. One of them flick the lights off as the three of them travel down the hallway, heading to the spare room Dick keeps for whoever needs a place to sleep. Tonight happens to be Jay’s brothers. He forgoes the overhead light in favour of the light glow of the reading light on the nightstand. Dick goes through muscle memory movements of checking the window lock and closing the blinds as Tim sits heavily on the corner of the bed. Jason opens the bathroom door and heads to Dick’s room quietly. Dick looks at Damian, nodding towards the hallway. “I’ll see what I have for clothes and leave ‘em on the counter.” Damian goes without a fuss, clearly just as tired as the rest of them. Dick lets himself run his fingers through Tim’s hair before following Damian into the hall. He pushes his own door open, notes Jason’s face down form on his bed, and gathers clothes for Damian. Nothing ideal, but better than the Robin suit. He checks in on Tim after putting the bundle on the bathroom sink, he’s still sitting on the bed and Dick lets him be until Damian is out. He slips back into his room, leaving the door open in case either of the kids need him.

“Little Wing?” Dick approaches Jason’s side of the bed, lightly laying his hand on his good shoulder. “I’m gonna get you ice okay?” Jason mumbles into the pillow and Dick takes it as a confirmation. He returns with a wrapped ice pack and gently pushes it onto Jason’s shoulder. Jason twitches under his hand, rolling onto his side and groggily grabbing onto the ice pack himself. Dick perches himself on the small space Jason vacated and runs his hand through Jason’s hair repetitively. Jason’s eyes flicker open, looking up at Dick. He pulls his hand off the ice pack with effort and runs cold fingers faintly over the bruise on Dick’s jaw. Dick’s too tired to verbally reassure him, which is saying a lot. Instead he pushes his cheek into Jason’s palm, letting his eyes shut and taking a deep breath in and out as Jason hums and starts flicking his thumb over Dick’s cheekbone. The shower shuts off and Dick allows himself another moment or two before forcing his eyes open and pulling back. Jason makes a noise of disapproval that causes Dick’s lips to curve up ever so slightly. “I gotta take care of the boys, Jay. Get under the covers.” Dick cards his hands through white bangs once more before forcing his legs to support his weight. 

He turns back towards the door and there’s Damian half hidden by the frame, watching them. He meets Dick’s eyes with something akin to shock and silently flees into the spare bedroom. Dick gives him a second before following him into the room. Tim had flopped backwards, starfishing across the bed, and Damian was hunched at the head of the bed, back to the door like he’d been there for a while. Dick lets the love he already has for these two boys settle into his heart. “Bed, boys.” Tim groans in a way only a tired teenager can and slowly starts pulling himself up the bed, mindful of his chest. Dick huffs out a laugh and pulls the covers down when Tim reaches the top. Tim practically melts under the blankets and Damian climbs under stiffly. “I know it’s not your mansion.” Dick starts talking as he pulls the blankets up over them. “But it’s what I got. I’ll be right across the hall if either of you need me, and I’ll make breakfast in the morning - it’s not Alfred level but food’s food right?” Dick’s fussing with the blankets now, practically tucking Tim in before coming to the other side of the bed to do the same to Damian. “And all the windows and the door is locked so don’t worry about that, and Jay’ll be fine too so you two just get a good sleep okay?” Dick runs his hands through his own hair, trying to think if there was anything else. He’s too tired to think.

“Gray.” Damian looks up at him, effectively burrioted in the duvet. Dick hums down at him. “Todd does not deserve you.” Dick stills. Tim’s watching the conversation through lidded eyes. Damian is a child, raised to be an assassin, Jason gave him the summarized story. Dick bites the fresh scab on his lip, hand still on the back of his neck. Slowly, he sits on the edge of the bed, meeting Damian’s gaze.

“Loving someone isn’t about them deserving your love. Whether they’re friends, or family, or partners. Love is about finding someone who doesn’t take more than you’re willing to give, and is willing to be by your side no matter what happens to you, or them.” Dick traces patterns on the duvet as he talks. “Sometimes I don’t think I deserve Jason. But no one else makes me feel how he does, and he knows all my dirty secrets and still comes falling in through my windows. Love is just…” It was way too late for this, good gods. “If someone ever makes you think you need to do certain things to appease them, and holds affection against you, they don’t love you, Damian.” Dick finds the strength to stand, and swiftly bends down to peck Damian’s forehead - he’s too effectively tucked in to do anything about it. “Get back to me when we’ve all slept to talk about love.” Dick makes his way back to Tim’s side to peck him too and switch the lamp off. “Goodnight boys.” Dick leaves the door slightly open just in case and returns to his own room.

Jason shifts as Dick slides in, not bothering with a light. “Dollface?”

“Who else?” Dick pulls the bloodied (but now dried) pajama pants off and climbs into bed.

“Brats?

Dick huffs into the dark, sticking to his own side of the bed. “In the spare room. I think Damian likes me.”

Jason chuckles. “Sure.” The bed shifts and Dick only slightly flinches as Jason’s arm wraps around his stomach, easily pulling Dick closer despite being near unconscious. Dick’s sure if he were more awake he’d never do this, and let’s be real the chances of Jason remembering any of this in the morning are slim. At least that’s what he tells himself as he doesn’t resist Jason’s pulling. Jason’s warm as he wraps himself around Dick’s much smaller frame, and Dick can’t help but sigh into the contact. He’s asleep before he can really process much else.

Dick wakes before Jason, which is both surprising and not. He, with difficulty, pulls himself out of Jason’s arms and slides into the hallway, grabbing a pair of sweats on his way out. The couch is even uglier in the daylight and Dick quickly turns away from it, towards Damian, sitting cross legged in the same chair as last night with a book in his lap. “Hey Dami.” Dick yawns out, returning to the kitchen to start breakfast. The stove clock reads 9a.m. Too early for his liking, considering last night. The chair creaks, and when Dick comes out of the fridge with his arms full of pancake stuff, Damian is seated on one of the two bar stools, eyeing Dick hesitantly. Which is fair, Dick would feel weird about being the only one up in his older brother’s friend’s house as well. “How’d you sleep?” He starts pulling out bowls and a spoon, going about it without much thought. 

“Well enough.” Dick hums, and they leave the conversation at that. It isn’t too awkward, and once the smell of pancakes fills the apartment both Tim and Jason appear zombie-like. Jason pushes into Dick’s space to pour a generous amount of chocolate chips into the rest of the batter, and everything is mellow and the sun is seeping through the windows and the pancake smell is mixing with Tim’s coffee and Dick feels more content, closer to his parents without meaning to be, than he had in a very long time. Melancolie, Johnny would have called it. Dick thinks the English word is similar, but he puts little thought to it. He and Tim stand while Damian and Jason take the barstools and the small breakfast is nice, Damian and Tim bicker about something and Jason keeps sending him glances and Dick allows himself to forget about last night. Soon though, too soon for Dick’s liking, his three Robins start getting antsy and Damian slips away and returns in his Robin suit before exiting out the window to sit on the fire escape. Dick turns away to start washing the dishes as Tim goes to change as well. Jason keeps watching him over his mug of tea. 

“Thank you, Dollface.” Dick doesn’t respond, doesn’t know how. There’s certain aspects of Jason no number of years can teach Dick how to navigate. “If I knew we could have made it to the Manor, we would have. I know that stressed you out last night.” 

“I’d rather deal with blood than another funeral.” Dick keeps his eyes on the soapy sink. Suddenly Jason’s beside him, drying the dishes as Dick sets them down. “Another funeral would kill me, I think.” Dick says it so quietly he isn’t positive Jason even heard him. Tim comes into the kitchen then, the cut in his suit hanging open weirdly. He smiles at Dick, thanking him with his eyes, before cocking his head towards the window with a pointed look at Jason. Dick knows enough Bat-speak to get the message. With another look at Dick, Tim heads for the window as well, shoving Damian around to make enough room for him as well. They finish the dishes in silence. Jason retreats down the hall, returning in his gear and heading for the window as Dick stands in the kitchen.

“No goodbye, Little Wing?” Dick asks, trying to come off as unbothered. He doesn’t think it works. He watches Jason visibly compose himself before turning to look at him. 

“I’ll see you soon enough.” He smiles, but his grip on his helmet tightens. Dick doesn’t understand why. “Stay out of trouble, pretty bird.”

Dick scoffs, closing the distance between them. “Says you.” Dick wraps his arms around Jason, not giving him the chance to back out of the hug. “Take care of yourself, Jay. And the kids too.” Jason’s arms loop around Dick slowly, hesitantly followed by him resting his chin on top of Dick’s head. Dick could stay like this forever, he realizes. After not long enough, Jason pulls away, heading for the window.

“Goodbye, Dick.” He smirks, starting to pull himself through.

Dick bites his cheek to not smile. “Goodbye, Jason.” And then the three of them are gone as suddenly as they came in the night before. Dick pulls his laptop out to start looking at couches.


	3. If they stand behind you

The call comes through Jason’s comm. while he’s at the Cave. It’s as startling as it always is when someone who, by all means, should not have your frequency is suddenly talking in your ear. 

“Hello, Red Hood.” Black Mask’s sudden intrusion causes Jason to fumble with the glue grenade he and Tim had been upgrading. Tim gives him a questioning look; Jason holds up a finger, turning slightly away.

“Black Mask. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Barbara’s eyes are on him now too and he signs at her to trace the call. The sound of her tapping gets overridden by Mask’s voice.  
“Well, I was going for a nice stroll around Gotham, thinking about the losses you’ve caused me in the past little bit, and I happened to run into a friend of ours.” Dread starts pooling in Jason’s gut. It must show on his face, as Tim slowly comes around the work table towards him. “Actually,” Mask continues with dangerous enthusiasm. “We decided to get together for lunch, he’s with me now.” There’s a half second of terrible silence before the man speaks again, a little farther from the phone. “Say hi.” Jason swallows. Tim lightly touches his arm.

“Hood.” Dick’s voice is in Jason’s ear, hesitant and watery and Jason stops breathing. Black Mask growls and the crack of a stinging slap makes Jason flinch like it was he who got hit. 

He faintly hears Mask tell Dick, “I told you to say hi.” Jason glares at Bab’s screen as her tracker uselessly bounces around the north island. “Street kids, I tell ya.” Mask’s loud in his comm. again. “No fucking manners.” The enjoyment in his voice is audible.

“What do you want?” Jason hears the words his lips form, but his mind is only replaying the slap over and over.

Mask chuckles. “Ain’t it obvious, Hood? I want my territory back. I want you out of Gotham for good, and I want to teach Gray here some fucking manners. Does he listen this poorly in bed? I mean I’m assuming he’s your front, no way a slut like this could really take over Gotham like he did when you left.” Jason growls. His hands hurt from how hard they’re clenched.

“If you got a problem with me, Mask, take it up with me. Tell me where you are and we can have a good ol’ discussion on territory face to face.” Mask hums in his ear. Barbara waves her hand, finally pinning the location down near Amusement Mile, surprisingly.

“Or, I get confirmation you crossed the Trigate Bridge by midnight and I might let Gray keep some of his control, after I give him a lesson, of course. Would be a shame to ruin such a pretty face because you can’t follow an order, boy.”

“You’re dead.” Jason is distantly aware he’s shaking, and Tim and Barbara look concerned, but he has so little focus for them right now.

“Only as dead as you want Gray to be. Midnight, Hood. It’d be in everyone’s best interest for you to not miss it.” The connection cuts off.

Jason sees green. He may of yelled, but he definitely swung around, throwing everything off the work table in a fury and punching the metal surface with a ringing clang as it buckles under his fist. He’s breathing heavily still when he finally hears Tim. Perhaps it was the first time the kid spoke, perhaps he’d been trying to get Jason’s attention for minutes.

“What happened, Jason?” It’s not Tim’s fault, but the sheer fury (and terrifying worry) is overpowering.

“What happened?” Jason spins on him, ignoring the half step back Tim takes. “Mask has Gray, is what happened!” Jason folds into a crouch, hands ripping at hair. He won’t hurt Tim, but fuck if he doesn’t want to make something bleed right now.

“How?” Damian’s voice startles him, and yeah there the kid is with Bruce beside him. The old man is eyeing the wreckage with distrust, but Damian is steadily staring Jason down. Jason bites his tongue, channeling everything Ducra preached and takes a second to center himself. 

“I don’t know.” He didn’t intend for the weakness to come through as strong as it did. He tries again to more success. “It’s my fault.” He stands stiffly, meaning to head for his bike but Tim stands in his way. He glares down at the kid.

“We’re coming with you.”Jason’s eyebrows betray his surprise. Tim bites his lip. “Gray means something to us too.”

“Wait.” Barbara cuts in. “Who’s Gray?” Jason hesitates, he doesn’t know how to answer that, not really.

“Todd’s partner.” Damian supplies with a sniff, moving to apparently grab his katana. Bruce and Barbara both turn to Jason with silent questions.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Jason wills the heat he can feel on his neck to disappear.

“I did not say he was.” Damian states, and yeah Jason walked into that slightly. “I will take enjoyment removing Mask’s head from his body for what he has foolishly done.” Bruce’s hand clamps down on Damian’s shoulder.

“We do not kill, no matter the situation, Damian.” Damian mutters something darkly as Bruce fixes his gaze on Jason. “However, we will assist in freeing Gray however we can.” Jason wants to yell because Bruce is being way too calm, and god knows how long Mask had already had Dick or what he’d done to him (or what he forced Dick to do to Mask) and Jason needs to Go Now. But yelling will take more time, so he silently double checks Barbara’s tracker and walks (read: runs) to one of the cars, not paying attention to whether the others were following. 

Jason kicks the doors of the lobby of an abandoned office building open, getting over a dozen guns immediately trained on him. Black Mask is on the other side of a filthy glass table, Dick wrapped tightly in his arms and a knife to his throat. The thugs are spread across the far wall. Immediately, Jason surveys Dick, and it’s obvious more is wrong than the knife leaving tiny droplets of blood every time he swallows. His eyes are glazed over and keep drifting ever so slightly. Drugged, definitely. The defense marks up his arms and the bleeding knuckles show he definitely didn’t come willingly, and despite the situation Jason wants to smile.

“I believe the Trigate is to the West, but I can’t say I’m surprised.” Jason takes a few steps into the lobby, newspapers rustling under his boots. He stops when Mask’s hand shifts minutely and another rivet trickles down Dick’s neck. “So what’s your plan now, Red?” He sounds gloating under the stupid mask. 

“Now, I put you in a body bag.” His gloves creak as he tightens the grip on his pistols. Mask has the audacity to laugh.

“Man, Kid. If I’d gotten my hands on you instead of the Bat, we’d be a real pair. Sadly, I didn’t. So now, we do either do this the easy way or the hard way. Believe it or not, I really don’t wanna hurt this pretty face. Well,” He chuckles again, leaning in closer to Dick’s ear. “Any more than I already have that is.” Jason growls, but he knows the rest of the Bats are getting into position still, so he lets Mask keep monologuing like a good Gothamite villain. “Last chance, Hood.” Mask continues gleefully. “You disappear out of my city, this arm candy makes sure everyone knows the city is mine, and once you cross the bridge I’ll safely return him from the apartment we took him from. Or else I slit his throat and then yours and take everything by force. Up to you.” The rest of the Bats are just now settling in the rafters, Jason had been too far ahead of them.

“Go.” Dick speaks quietly, but the entire building is silent. “Take his offer, Hood.” Dick’s hazy eyes focus on him, and any fear Jason heard over the phone is gone. Dick’s giving the rest of them time. That, or the knife to his neck really is doing it, but Jason knows Dick had been on the receiving end of much worse with nothing but a grin. Jason steels himself for what he’s about to do.

“I cross the bridge, and you never hurt him again?” Mask’s knife pulls away marginally.

“Never, Kid.” Jason nods, and with some effort, turns his back on Dick and Mask and heads for the exit. He gets about five feet when both Dick and Barbara yell ‘Duck’. A bullet goes through where his head was less than half a second ago as he practically hits the deck. Jason spins around to chaos. The Bats had dropped down onto the thugs and gunfire started illuminating the lobby, bullets shattering glass. Jason finds Dick and Mask in a fistfight, somehow Dick had used the confusion to break free. Jason starts for them single-mindedly and pays for it from the two thugs that tag team him by surprise. It’s still not really a fight, but Jason curses himself for not taking in his surroundings better. 

He relocates Dick after dealing with the two thugs, and him and Mask are on the ground now. Dick was on his back with Mask effectively pinning him, knife somehow back in hand. It reaffirms Dick is drugged, he would’ve easily beaten Mask otherwise. Jason’s too far away still and can only shoot Mask in the shoulder from where he is. Still, it’s enough. Mask drops the knife in surprise and Dick uses his shock to his advantage, flipping their positions and knocking Mask out with a solid slam of his mask off the marble floor before pulling himself off Mask and promptly hitting the floor himself. 

With Mask unconscious, the thugs are a joke and soon Jason’s able to check on Dick. Bruce handcuffs Mask’s unconscious form as Jason checks Dick’s vitals. The smaller man is barely awake, neck, arms, and hands bleeding, who knows what under the shirt and pants, and heart rate much slower than it should be. But he’s alive, and he’ll be safe now, cause like hell is Jason letting him out of his sights any time soon. Tim crouches beside the two of them, performing his own vital check as the other three continue tying up the thugs and calling GCPD.

“He needs medical attention.” Jason states the obvious, but he doesn’t know what else to say. Dick’s eyes are half lidded but still hazily tracking him and Jason pulls him just a little closer to him.

Tim nods, sending a quick glance at Batman as he approaches. “He’ll be fine, Hood.” Jason swallows but doesn’t argue, working instead on bundling Dick into his arms and standing. Dick’s bloody fingers scrape at the ridges of his body armour. Jason stares at Bruce.

“I’m taking him to the Cave. He needs Agent A.” Bruce glares at him.

“Absolutely not. Leslie will be able to treat him sufficiently.” He turns to leave only to have his own son staring up at him angrily.

“Gray will be treated in the Cave, Father.” It was the first time since Jason was Robin that Jason had seen Bruce shocked by something. If the circumstances were different Jason would already be calling Roy to laugh about it.

Bruce turns back around to look at Tim, who crosses his arms, demanding, “The Cave.” Barbara simply shrugs when she silently gets questioned, and by then Jason is already heading for his car. He leaves the rest of the Bats, knowing they would have to deal with the GCPD and Mask and the stupid office building, and makes his way to the Manor. Halfway there, Dick stirs in the passenger. His eyes flutter but Jason assumes he really isn’t seeing anything. He takes one of Dick’s fumbling, grasping hands and shushes Dick when he tries to pull back.

“Just me, Prettybird, just me. You’re safe, I promise. We’re gonna go back to the Manor and get you fixed up okay?” Jason spares a glance from the road to the passenger seat. Dick’s body is tilted towards Jason and both hands are wrapped around Jason’s one now, but as far as he can tell Dick’s already asleep again. Who knows how long or how hard he was fighting the drug earlier. 

He pulls into the Cave and Alfred’s already there looking as collected as ever and Jason finds himself blowing out a lungful of anxiety he didn’t know he was carrying because Alfred will make everything better like he always does. Bruce must have already called ahead for Jason, because Alfred seems even less fazed than Jason was expecting and the two of them quietly get Dick situated on a med bed. Jason doesn’t want to leave, but one look from Alfred sends him to the showers and when he returns there’s crisp white bandages on Dick’s throat and arms and he’s sleeping peacefully, tucked in with care. Suddenly, the adrenaline that had been carrying Jason for the last hour or so disappears and it’s all he can do to find a chair by Dick’s side to fall into before also passing out.

Tim pulls into the Cave not fifteen minutes after Jason would have arrived. Barbara’s bike pulls up on his left and the Batmobile on his right. Tim spots Jason’s car further to the right, as close to the med bay a vehicle can get. He had tried not to show it, but when Jason had gotten that call, Tim had been scared. Somehow, Dick had managed to work his way into Tim’s classification of family in just the few months he’d known him. Already Tim had found himself stopping into Dick’s apartment just to hang out and breathe, and half the time Damian was already there when he arrived. And geez, if Dick hadn’t managed to somehow get him and Damian to fight less without either of them even noticing.   
But now, back in the Cave, Tim allowed himself to entertain the idea of relaxing. Bruce is already avoiding the med bay like it’s quarantined by the time Tim hauls himself off his bike and heads up to the main nest. Damian is by his dad’s side, but Tim catches him sending glaces towards the med bay. He catches Damian’s eyes and nods his head towards the doors. The kid bites his lip, eyes flicking back to Bruce, who is pointedly ignoring both of them, and agrees to Tim’s offer. The two of them quietly head to the doors to the med bay, slowly sliding it open to peek in, and Tim can’t help but smirk at the scene.

Dick is safely tucked into the bed to the right, now sleeping peacefully. Tim observes the bandages, noting Alfred’s handiwork. Beside Dick’s bed is Jason, who’s technically sitting in the side chair, but he’s face down on the side of Dick’s bed, also dead asleep. Damian huffs with amusement beside Tim.

“Should we wake Todd?” Damian whispers. Tim considers; the way he was sleeping definitely looked uncomfortable, but then Jason shifts in his sleep and suddenly Tim can see Jason and Dick are holding hands, despite both being unconscious. Damian seems to see it at the same time as Tim, if the small startled noise is anything to go off of.

Tim shakes his head. “Nah. Let ‘em sleep.”

Damian hums. “When do you think the two of them will finally… get together?” Tim snorts at Damian’s awkwardness. 

“I’d be surprised if they do on their own. As much as Jason cares about Dick, you’ve heard how he freaks out when anyone even remotely suggests a relationship. And I don’t think Dick really cares about labelling anything. They’re both just gonna awkwardly float around each other for who knows how long until something, or someone, interferes and causes them to get together.” 

Damian huffs again, murmuring about them both being idiots, and backs out of the doorway. Tim takes another moment to look over Dick and Jason, confirming to himself both of them would be okay, emotionally just as much as physically, and follows Damian back out to the nest. He ponders about what shape the interference will take.

The interference arrives mere weeks later, in the form of an unexpected teamup of Bane and Penguin, and Harley and Ivy choose to use the chaos to create their own brand. It’s all around both unexpected and just plain bad. When it all had first erupted, Dick and Jason had been in the Manor, having snuck in through Jason’s bedroom window to steal cookies and grab the sweater Jason had accidentally left and simply refused to part with. 

They’re in Jason’s room as he picks through leftover books, seeing if any are worth stealing, and Dick’s juggling a Rubix cube, a tennis ball, and a rubber band ball with ease when they overhear Tim banging on Damian’s door just two rooms down, demanding he gets his ass to the Cave immediately cause ‘bad shit just went down’. Dick deftly collects the objects in his hands and looks to Jason, who is still holding open The Secret Garden. A silent conversation occurs before Dick drops the knick knacks and Jason tosses the book into the bag they’d brought, narrowly missing the cookies. They make their way to the Cave.

Bruce is surprised to see them, apparently they had been more successful in sneaking into the house than they had hoped. “We heard bad shit happened.” Jason offers before being asked as they join the three of them in the main Nest. 

Indeed, it was bad. Barbara, through the comms, made it clear downtown Gotham was officially a warzone, Venomized thugs breaking into GCPD buildings, shops and houses, Penguin’s snipers picking off those hiding in alleyways, and carnivorous plants and smiling bombs keeping Gotham effectively blocked off from the harbour, bridges, or tunnels. Which meant it was up to just Barbara, Bruce, and his sons to effectively deconstruct the three island bomb that was now Gotham, already quickly ticking towards total extermination. Jason figured they’d faced worse odds, but, it didn’t look good.

“I’ll help.” Dick had immediately offered, daring Bruce to tell him no. “I can fight, and use a gun, and I know safer locations to get citizens to.” Jason swore his heart physically clenched for a beat. Bruce was not the authority Dick had to worry about. He, from his place half a foot behind Dick, grabbed onto the smaller’s arm, pulling them both a few steps back. Dick flinched more from surprise, but Jason refused to let him go.

“No.” His grip on Dick’s bicep tightened, like if he tried hard enough he could actually attach Dick to the grates under their booted feet. Dick tried to pull away, irritation clear in his curled lip and sharp eyes.

“Don’t you dare start this again, Jason. You don’t own me, and you need my help.” Jason could feel an unnamed emotion start to work its way up his legs.  
“No, Dick! I know all the same spots you do. You’re not going out there.” Jason could feel the anger radiating off Dick, but the tingling in his legs had made its way to his stomach and it easily overpowered whatever guilt Jason would usually feel about bossing Dick around.

“Why?!” Dick exclaims, trying with minimal success to rip his arm out of Jason’s probably painful hold. “You think I can’t help? Forgetting I taught you how to fight, Jason? I’m not some dumb slut who can’t hold his own! Just cause you’re Mr. Muscles doesn’t mean you get a monopoly on fighting assholes!-”

“I can’t lose you!” Jason exclaims, grabbing Dick’s other arm as well and shaking him once without really meaning to. Dick’s struck silent, so Jason continues. “I know you can fight, of course I do, and I know how much the people in this city mean to you, but I can’t…” Jason realizes the now full body tingling that’s constricting his chest is paralyzing fear, the kind he hadn’t felt since he came back to life. “If something happens to you…” Jason doesn’t even know what he’d do.

Dick’s entire body sags towards Jason, instead of pulling away like he had been seconds ago. Jason’s hands slip down Dick’s arms of their own accord. Dick is looking at him that way only he can, peeling Jason back layer by guarded layer. “Jason.” Dick breathes out, like a holy, revered word. Jason mutely shakes his head, the fear is in his throat now, he doesn’t know what will come out if he opens his mouth. Dick easily releases himself from Jason’s grasp now, closing the already minimal distance between the two. Standing on tip-toes, he tightly winds his arms around neck, pulling Jason’s face into his shoulder, hugging Jason like it’s the last time he has the chance, and, it just might be. Jason shudders, the fear short circuiting in Dick’s embrace. He distantly feels his arms wrapping around Dick’s waist as if they don’t belong to him anymore. Dick, for how much he’s constantly moving and blabbering, has always managed to also be a solid, steady, grounding person. The monster in his throat deteriorates, as if Dick’s banishing it. It sinks back to his stomach, and then finally exists only as a slight tingling in his fingers and toes. 

Dick, seemingly sensing this, slightly pulls back, pulling Jason’s face into his hands, steadily meeting Jason’s hesitant gaze. He nods, apparently seeing something in Jason’s face. All Jason feels is embarrassment at being this weak. Dick’s lips twitch up. “I’ll wait for you here, then.” If Gotham weren’t ending as they spoke Jason’s knees would’ve buckled in relief. Instead, he sucks in a stuttering breath and lets it out. Dick’s thumbs slide over Jason’s cheekbones. “‘Sides, you probably need someone on the cameras if Barbara’s gonna be out too.” 

And fuck, Jason had completely forgotten the two of them were not alone. His neck snaps up out of Dick’s grasp to make immediate and painful eye contact with Bruce, cheeks, ears, probably whole body burning bright red with embarrassment. Tim and Damian are also watching, but their faces tell a lot more than Bruce’s. They both are slightly blushing themselves, but neither seem angry or disappointed, or disgusted. Bruce is, as always, much more difficult to read. Dick laughs, loud and ringing in the silent cave, cutting through the heavy emotions with natural but perfected ease. He winds his fingers through the baby hairs at the nape of Jason’s neck before starting to pull himself out of Jason’s frozen grasp. “Let’s save our shit city, yeah?” Jason nods dumbly, following as Dick moves back to Damian’s side, ruffling the kids hair with ease as Tim clears his throat, gesturing for Bruce to continue where he left off.

Mere minutes later, Jason’s striding to his bike, Tim, Damian, and Bruce also heading towards their bikes. Dick’s in the nest with Alfred, manning the city cameras. He’s about to straddle his bike when Dick calls his name. Jason whips back around, and somehow there’s Dick in his personal space, arms already halfway around Jason’s neck before he can process anything. Dick pulls him down, smashing their mouths together, caring much more about emotion than finesse, but Jason’s brain stops working anyways. You would think seeing someone naked more than once would prepare you for simply kissing them. Jason’s arms again wrap around Dick’s waist, this time painfully in his control and he pulls Dick as close to him as possible, feeling Dick smile into the kiss, which had definitely gained more control. Dick pulls away first, even his dark skin not being able to hide the blush dusting his cheekbones. His grip on Jason’s neck keeps Jason from floating away.

“Come back to me, yeah?” Dick’s breathless. Jason, mouth still hanging slightly open, nods once. He swallows and licks his lips quickly.

“Always.” Dick smiles up at him, placing his hands on Jason’s shoulders and pushing him back towards his bike before practically running back up the stairs to the Nest. Jason, still slightly dazed, turns back to his bike. Tim and Damian are practically beaming at him, an odd look on the Brat, but one Jason could get used to. Jason can’t find it in him to look to Bruce. He swings onto his bike with renewed energy, smiling as he secured his helmet and starts the bike. He thinks, as he eyes the warzone, that he would take on the whole city by himself if it meant getting back to Dick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! I had so much fun writing this, and I'm considering doing a smaller followup of after but who knows. Thanks for sticking with this purely self indulgent mess!


End file.
